Chapter 3
Ever since the news broke that our military prostitutes were being disbanded, Colton must’ve known that other men had
quietly come to me, offering a way out.
But he never asked.
Never confronted me.
As if he was certain I wouldn’t leave with anyone else.
He leaned in, his teeth grazing my ear. I turned my head away, avoiding him.
He chuckled.
“Still got that temper?”
Then he said it again, that familiar line:
“After the wedding, nothing between us has to change. I bought a house outside the city. That’ll be our place.”
He said it so casually. Like he hadn’t once left a red maple leaf on my windowsill, promising forever. Like he hadn’t
clutched me to his chest two years ago, trembling with relief when he found me alive.
“Isla,” he had whispered back then, “once this war is over, I’ll bring you home. As my wife.”
But that was a promise made to Isla Warren,
Auto-added to the Library
Not to me, the girl who had become just a mi
Everyone had given up on me.
Everyone but me.
So I smiled, soft and obedient, resting against his chest.
He didn’t know that just hours earlier, I’d sent a message to Damon Clark.
I’d said yes.
. On the day Colton married the King’s daughter, I would marry Damon-quietly, far away in Riverstone.
It was the only way out of this hell.
Victory meant soldiers were allowed to take a companion home-a final act of “generosity” toward the women left behind.
Damon had asked.
He wasn’t cruel.
And I needed the escape.
Officials from the Department of Defense had arrived at the outpost with formal commendation orders. The high-ranking
Chapter 3
4.62%
officers were scheduled to return to Raventon ahead of the troops to receive their honors.
Colton hosted a dinner that night-an opulent display in the main tent. The wine flowed. The conversations dragged. Someone, out of boredom, asked: “Is it true Isla Warren is here?”
Eyes lit up. A few exchanged amused, lecherous glances.
“Raventon’s Rose, wasn’t it? I heard she’s not just a musician-she dances too. Why not have her perform for the
occasion?”
They were trying to sound polite. Refined.
But everyone knew exactly what they were asking.
Colton didn’t say no.
When the soldier arrived at my quarters with the costume, I was applying ointment to bruises on my ribs-the ones he’d
left behind.
The dress was barely there. Sheer fabric, hardly enough to cover the skin, let alone hide the purple-blue marks blooming beneath it.
I stared at it in silence.
Outside, the soldier grew impatient.
“What’s the holdup? Can’t figure it out? Need me to help you dress, sweetheart?”
“I can’t dance,” I replied.
He blinked, surprised. Then stepped inside with heavy boots and a scowl.
“General Prescott asked for a performance. You don’t get to say no.”
“I said,” I repeated, voice low and even,
“I can’t.”
I reached beneath my pillow and pulled out the dagger Colton once gave me to protect myself.
. Before the man could react, I plunged it straight into my thigh.
Blood burst from the wound, vivid and immediate.
I looked him dead in the eye.
“I told you-I can’t dance.”
He paled, backing out and running to report what had happened.
Colton came back later, his face like stone, the air around him freezing cold.
He looked at my bleeding leg, still unbandaged, and said nothing for a long time. Chapter 3
4.62%
Then finally: “Things aren’t like they used to be, Isla.”
“It was just a dance. With your position… who do you think you are to refuse?”
I met his gaze.
“And what do you think I am?”
He glanced toward the open flap of the tent, then scoffed.
“Clearly, I’ve spoiled you too much.”
He stepped back.
“We leave for the capital tomorrow. Anyone without a marriage contract goes straight to the Holding Facility. You’ll go there too. Cool off for a while. I’ll come for you once I finish my report in Raventon.”
My head snapped up.
He was sending me to that place?
The one filled with disease, madness, and the discarded women no one wanted?
He looked at me a moment longer. Then turned and started to walk away.
But I knew Damon had already submitted the paperwork.
A marriage license-legal and binding.
Colton would leave tomorrow with his bride in white.
I would leave with the man who saw me, not my past.
We would both walk into different futures.
Maybe this was the last time I’d ever see him.
“General Prescott,” I called out.
He stopped.
Surprised-I almost never used his full title.
I stood, ignoring the pain in my leg, and gave him a small, formal bow.
“Thank you for your protection these past two years.”
Then I lifted my chin and smiled.
“I won’t see you off. Safe journey.”
